


back burner.

by cl3rks



Series: x marks the spot [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Charles loves you, F/M, Gen, Gender Inclusive, Hank/Reader (Friendship), M/M, READER IS NOT A MUTANT, Soulmate AU, Use of Professor Xavier, i like saying 'genetically altered human' too much, no pronouns used, reader loves charles' lectures, what a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: You had put your search for a soulmate on the back burner, it appears the universe had other plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I tried VERY hard not to use pronouns. It's 2:20 PM and I've been working on this for two hours because I suddenly got the inspiration. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! (I didn't know how to end it, hope it wasn't too shabby.)
> 
> I've been wanting to do something for X-Men, besides my Hank fic, which I have major writer's block for, so... yeah.
> 
> IF THERE ARE TYPOS, LET ME KNOW. IF THERE ARE ANY IDENTIFYING PRONOUNS BESIDE MY USE OF "THEY" AND "THEY'RE" LET ME KNOW!!

You were young and you were pursing different things, many things. You were pursuing the search of your soulmate, as well, but that was on the back burner in place of your studies. 

When you first met Charles Xavier, you didn't genuinely meet him. You saw him. He'd been at the recreational hall in your small town. He was giving a speech, of sorts, about genetic mutations and the variations they have within different species and how they affect humans specifically.

You were fascinated. You honestly meant to stop him, to say hello and tell him how much you enjoyed his talk – but a blond woman seemed to take his attention away as she stood beside him, tall boots and a short skirt to show off her long legs. You didn't mind her appearance and you didn't find yourself jealous, she just seemed to steal up all his time and you frowned in disappointment.

You weren't able to speak to him about anything. 

You found yourself following his different lectures in different places, bringing various leather journals with you and a few pens along the way. You filled up each journal with the same information, drawing your own conclusions from it as you watched him stand there, powerful in his words but soft in his tone. 

His eyes were clear and bright and happy as he answered questions. You meant to ask some, truly, you did, but the ball of anxiety in your stomach prevented you from doing that. 

You raised your hand once, seeing his gaze fan over the swarm of hands and for a moment – _just a moment_ – he looked at you. His previous polite smile went a little wider as he saw you, his head cocking to the side like he recognized you and you thought he did. You dropped your hand when he picked the man beside you. 

_Maybe he was smiling at someone else..._ You thought to yourself once his lecture was over, your fluttering heart calming down as you gathered your things and tucked them into your bag, quickly pushing past the crowd of people as you felt closed in. 

Everyone was buzzing, talking amongst themselves as it all filtered into a loud noise.

You didn't see Charles Xavier pushing past people to get to you and you certainly didn't hear him calling out variations of polite things to get your attention. “Miss” and “Ma'am” as he tried pushing past people.

You took a month to think, to sit down and read and draw conclusions and make graphs and restructure some journal entries as you went over what he'd said – things you'd written down. You continuously went to lectures til he stopped having them, and when you heard Charles Xavier was possibly one of those genetically altered humans that he spoke of... your excitement bubbled over.

You were eager to meet him now. You were hoping you would get the courage to, of course, when another lecture popped up.

One didn't for some time. 

You'd saved enough money for a front row seat, however. Those were the ones that you genuinely had to pay something for.

The next time you saw him, you were sitting there eagerly. Your legs bouncing as the woman beside you smiled gently at you. She was a little older, perhaps your mother's age. 

“Have you heard him speak before?” She asked you. 

You nodded, your eyes bright and happy. “Many times. I,” You paused, slightly embarrassed by your following confession. “I write what he says and add to it. Make my own theories.”

“I heard he's one of them.” She said softly, her voice much lower as if it were a bad thing. “One of the mutants.”

You glanced around. _Was that why there weren't as many people? Because everyone believes it's such a bad thing?_

“Does it matter?” You questioned, whatever giddy smile you had dropped.

She glanced around as you did. “You tell me.”

The lights dimmed a little and you heard clapping begin and you slowly turned in your seat. You were expecting a man, striding down the aisle with a confident smile and an excuse for the lack of lectures. What you were presented with, however, was the the side of a man refusing to be _pushed_ down the aisle as he struggled to wheel with the carpet that curled up on itself in a few places. 

A few people gasped, but your bright eyes grew confused.

_What had happened?_

He wheeled past everyone, his arms perfectly capable. You turned back to face forward, looking down at your journal and you felt a presence beside you. You turned to your left as the woman to your right poked you. 

“Thank you for being here.” Professor Xavier said sincerely, his gentle smile reaching his eyes. _“I hope it's an inspiring lecture.”_

 _“It always is.”_ You said evenly, even as your heart raced from the words he'd said. He looked as though his heart stopped, then, the clear blue color turning stormy, but only for a moment. “Do you need any assistance?”

You phrased your sentence carefully, cautious not to insult him.

“I'm quite alright. Thank you.”

He wheeled past you and as he began his talk – when he got on-stage – he kept looking at you. His eyes never seemed to leave your face. 

When your mother went to plays, she'd tell you sometimes the performers would find faces in the crowd to look at. They did that to focus, to stay calm if the large swarm of people got to be too much. They'd find friendly faces, familiar ones, and they'd watch them and find peace there.

Charles Xavier seemed to do the same that blessed night. 

You watched, eyes wide and bright with both your brain and your pen ready.

He watched you scribble down various things, things you already knew, things you already had. But you were interested, you were pleased and this is what you wanted.

When he came off-stage, after answering some questions, a man a little younger than you came to collect you. You'd heard of a young man traveling with the professor, a man just as bright and intelligent, if not more. You also heard he had a mutation as well.

“HI, I'm Hank McCoy,” He started, reaching a hand out to shake yours. “The professor would like to speak with you, if you have time?”

You shook his hand firmly as a smile stretched across your face. Hank pulled his hand back as you did, your smile telling him what he needed before you actually did. “I have time.”

“Good, he's very eager to meet you.” He paused. “Don't know if I was supposed to say that.”

You chuckled nervously with him before meeting the previously mentioned professor in the lobby.

“I'm Charles Xavier,” He introduced as you reached him. “You enjoy my lectures, I suppose?”

You shook his hand. “I'm [Y/F/N] [Y/L/N], and yes, Mr. Xavier, I do. They're fascinating and –“

“Call me Charles.” He said suddenly, cutting into what you were saying. 

“Charles,” You corrected yourself. “I love your lectures, they're inspiring, you're inspiring and I didn't think-”

“I recognize you.” He said, cutting you off again. “I'm terribly sorry for interrupting you, truly, I am. I'm also terribly rude-”

“Its fine.” You took your chance to do the same as he did, hoping to make him comfortable as his nervousness and excitement began to bubble over as yours already had. “Go ahead.”

“I never thought my... soulmate of all people would listen to my scientific gibberish.”

“I understand it.” You told him gently. “I don't just listen, I get it. I've spent time researching it just so I could be there.”

“You have a different journal each time.” Charles stated, glancing at the one in your hands. “It's difficult to tell, but I can.”

You looked down at the black leather. “I fill them each time, well, with my theories as well.”

“Could I look at them? Overtime, of course, if... you'd like to stick around?”

You nodded gently, your fingers swiping over the cover of the one you were holding as you glanced down at it again before your eyes met Charles'. “I'd like that.” You two watched each other for a moment before you spoke, your heart racing still. You, to distract yourself, for your journal in your bag before speaking. “Would you like to get a drink, sometime? Or a coffee? Whatever you'd prefer, of course.”

He mimicked your words. “I'd like that... if you wouldn't mind, we could go now?”

You nodded once more. He reached for his wheels but you reached out a hand, bending down so you could press it to his. Your eyes met and you realized how close you were, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. “If I may?”

He tensed for a moment, you could see it, before he nodded slowly. “You may.”

Later on, a few years after, when you were sitting in the mansion with Charles sleeping on the couch and you in the chair across from it, Hank beside you, the man spoke.

“He didn't like people pushing him.”

“What?”

“In his chair,” Hank said. “He didn't even really want me to do it, he didn't want to feel more helpless than he already did.”

“Why'd that change, then?” You asked, your throat tightening a little. 

Hank glanced down at the mug of coffee in his hands before looking at you with a genuine smile. ”He met you. He felt jittery and when I came and got you that night, I put it together. He told me 'They're the one. The words, they said the words.' He was smiling so big and he sounded like he was about to cry.”

You felt the same way, at that moment as he told you this. Your eyes beginning to well up with tears. 

He spoke once more before he grew quiet again. “He loved you from the moment he saw you at that first lecture you attended, I think. Maybe he knew, maybe he felt it. I like to think he did.”

You thought of the words, coincidentally on Charles' leg, that you often traced. The three words you spoke that hit him like a train. _It always is_ was on the outer portion of his right thigh, you loved running your fingers over the black letters, the ones in your hand-writing.

Charles joked that it looked like chicken scratch when he was young, but the words shifted each time you changed your writing.

His never changed for you, however, his writing forever remained the same. The elegant, loopy writing on the inner portion of your left forearm, the words that you traced when you were younger. _I hope it's an inspiring lecture_ in black ink.

After some time, you finally replied to what Hank said. “So do I.” You said softly.

Hank stood and left you to think about times better than the world now.

One thing that didn't seem to bother you about Charles, one thing he was worried about, was that you, a non-mutant, wouldn't be able to be with him, a mutant.

You overlooked it and smiled. “I never thought there was anything wrong with the 'mutants',” You said, using airquotes. “To begin with. I thought they – you – were fascinating, I still do. You're all so beautiful and I wish the world would be more open-minded.”

He felt the pain of many of those who shared the genetically altered gene that he did, and that night he cried as you held him for giving him – and them – some peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Charles' words: I hope it's an inspiring lecture.  
> Your words: It always is.
> 
> Might do something like this again? I'm putting this into a series, just in case!
> 
> [I really want to do something for Sean, Alex, Logan, Victor, Ororo and Remy.]


End file.
